


Equals

by Gorgeous_Girl_Genius



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Eye Trauma, F/M, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Blame, Self-Harm, Self-Mutilation, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Unhealthy Relationships, fixing unhealthy relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-20 10:30:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16554092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gorgeous_Girl_Genius/pseuds/Gorgeous_Girl_Genius
Summary: Fuyuhiko had always thought his sexual relationship with Peko was a secret from his parents, but then he learned the terrible truth about all the things they expect him to be using his all-purpose tool for. Riddled with guilt, he couldn't see any way to atone for what he'd done but to die. Peko had always assumed that her young master knew that every part of her belonged to him, but when she had to explain the nature of their relationship to him, he reacted very badly. Peko can't figure out what she must have done to upset him so much he'd rather die than stay with her. When Fuyuhiko's suicide attempt doesn't work out, Peko and Fuyuhiko are forced to talk about their relationship and realize that they have a lot of healing to do together.Pre-despair and non-canon compliant. Full of just all the angst and despair, but has a happy ending. Suicide attempt and self-mutilation happens "onscreen" in Chapter 2. Sex is mentioned but doesn't happen onscreen.





	1. Nothing but Despair

Fuyuhiko lifted his head up from between Peko’s legs and let himself fall face-first into her breasts. He loved this moment. The one just after they’d finished where he could press his body entirely into hers, burying his face in the warmth of her breasts. Face hidden, he was safe from the pressure of the outside world and even from the pressure he was always putting on himself. No one could see his smile, he could block out his experience of everything but her. It was a perfect place in her arms. He could drift to sleep easily, thinking only of the beautiful experiences they’d just given each other, if he wanted to. 

Peko’s hands automatically ran over his bare back as she sighed her contentment. She closed her eyes, feeling her young master’s back rise and fall with his breath. She loved this moment. The moment when she could feel his skin against hers, pulling him entirely into her. No one could take her young master away from her and she could practically feel the love he had for her spreading through her body. 

“Peko?” Fuyuhiko unburied his face, seeking out Peko’s eyes with his own, a rare smile covering his face. He was too sleepy and too satisfied to put up his normal angry persona. Everything just felt too right. He’d been thinking a lot lately and through the haze of his post-orgasm relaxation, he wanted to tell Peko everything he'd been feeling.

“What is it?” Peko's voice was soft, calm as ever, and her lips curled themselves automatically into a warm smile. Peko's heart seemed to melt in her chest. Her young master was so much more trusting and expressive in these moments than he could ever be otherwise. What did he have to say?

“This is probably my favorite shit we do together.” Fuyuhiko commented quietly. Peko ran her fingers gently over his hair while he spoke. He was feeling a little embarrassed, but he was only talking to Peko after all, and she would never be judgemental of him, so he persisted forward.

“The reason isn’t the shit people would think” He continued, cheeks turning a deep pink as he realized he needed to clarify the reason. He didn't want to imply that he was only interested in the sexual pleasure aspect of it.  “It’s the best because my fucking parents don’t know shit about it.” 

Peko got a sinking feeling in her stomach as she heard the reason, her eyes searching her young master’s face briefly. His parents certainly did know what they were doing together. Why would he not know that that wasn’t true? If her young master believed they were not aware, correcting his misconception could cause problems. She hesitated a moment before coming to the conclusion for what to say. 

“Well, they certainly don’t know the details,” She nodded her head barely in agreement, hoping that would be enough. What she had actually said was true. Fuyuhiko's parents didn't know the specific acts as they were performing, much too concerned with his privacy.  

“No,” Fuyuhiko shook his head, eyes narrowing a bit. Did she just not understand what he was trying to say? “That’s not it. Like, I’m fucking happy that they’d be so pissed if they knew about the shit we were doing at all. Like, they don’t fucking know we have this shit going on, like, a relationship and all. They expect me to just be using you for fighting and protecting me and that shit.” 

Peko bit her lip, turning her eyes down away from Fuyuhiko’s. She was dumbfounded. Did her young master really not understand the situation? And why would this be his favorite part? If he learned it wasn't the way he expected, it would certainly upset him. But why? And should she say something? Would it be okay to lie to him if it would keep him happy? But what would happen should he find out the truth later? 

Fuyuhiko was agitated. Why was Peko biting her lip? And why wouldn’t she meet his eyes? Did she know something he didn't? He put his arms out to the side and pushed himself up off of her so he was sitting on his knees between her legs and looked at her face expectantly. When she didn’t immediately respond, he furrowed his eyebrows. 

“What?!” He snapped, glaring at her “What is it, Peko?!”

“Young master…” Peko couldn’t lie when she was being asked like this. She sat up herself, crossing her legs underneath her and facing her young master. She would have to tell him about the mistake. But what would be the best way to phrase it? “I am terribly sorry to disappoint you, but although I’m sure they don’t know the full details for your privacy’s sake, I believe they fully expect... something of this nature.” 

“Explain.” Fuyuhiko managed the 2 strangled syllables, but he only just,  heart pounding in his ears, mouth dry, jaw clenched. Was that really true? Did his parents really give the okay for something like this? Why would they when they were always getting so mad at him for treating her  _ too well _ ? Why would they know and be okay with him doing something so wonderful with her, for her, even? But Fuyuhiko had hope. Perhaps he’d only misunderstood what Peko was trying to say somehow. 

“I apologize. I was under the impression… that you knew.” Peko’s voice was metered, dispassionate even. Her eyes gave no indication of the fear swirling in her stomach. “I am your tool. If you need a sword, I am to be your sword. If you need a shield, I will be your shield. If you need…. Well, ah, that is….” Peko faltered. Her young master’s face was deep red, his eyes filing with angry tears, fist clenched. How had she made him so angry already? Peko swallowed and closed her eyes to calm herself. She would continue her explanation without letting her feelings get in the way. “I mean to say that I’m yours. All of me. And they meant me to be used for anything you could want. I believe… ah, activities such as this were expected. I believe this type of thing would be the reason they chose a girl for your tool.” 

Fuyuhiko had heard that hearts could shatter, but this didn’t feel much like shattering. Instead he felt like his heart, distinctly made of muscle was ripped apart, stretched and pulled until it came apart into raw and ragged pieces. His chest wouldn’t rise on command. He couldn’t speak, his thoughts racing. How could he have been so stupid about this? Had he really thought his presence could ever be good for Peko? Why did he not realize this would just be more of the same? All this time he'd thought they were sharing something precious, inherently equals, and instead he'd just been using her all along. Fuyuhiko couldn’t breathe, he could barely think, and he doubled over forward, tears leaking from his eyes. 

Peko couldn’t stand to have caused this. Why hadn’t he known? And why did this make him so angry with her? Why couldn’t she understand why this would upset him? After all, it didn’t change anything, did it? She'd been so happy. He'd seemed so happy with her. But she could never make her young master happy. It so often seemed he didn’t want his tool, didn’t want her. How could she not realize that this would just be more of the same? With difficulty, she swallowed again. It wouldn’t do to make her unwarranted emotions relevant to her young master; she had caused this by what she’d said, somehow, and she would be responsible for fixing it. Peko cautiously reached out her hand, barely touching Fuyuhiko’s shoulder with it. 

That was the wrong answer. Fuyuhiko violently smacked  her hand away, snapping back to a sitting position.

“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME! DON’T EVEN TALK TO ME!!” He screamed through tears. He couldn’t ever do this again. He could never be weak enough to seek her out again. He was her owner and that could never change. He needed to let her go. Why didn’t she understand? He suddenly leapt up and bolted, full speed to the bathroom. 

Peko, upon being sure that her young master had left the room, allowed herself to fall apart. It was undignified, not a fit state for a tool, but the most she could do was ensure that she was alone. She hugged her knees to her chest and buried her face in them, sobbing freely. Why did she always seem to make him hate her? He’d done this before, demanding she go away, usually yelling about how he didn’t want a tool at all. But she couldn’t understand how she’d been so bad at it as to make him not want her. Peko lost track of time as her sobs died down and eventually she was able to wipe her face as clean as possible with just her hands. Then she collected her clothes from the floor, numbly going through the motions of getting re-dressed. She replaced her sword and her stoic face before leaving the room.

Peko felt stupid. She couldn’t believe she’d thought things would be different. Her young master had seemed so happy about this. He’d sent her away so many times before, but when he started asking her for this, it seemed so different. He’d given her such wonderful feelings and touched her so readily, and, more nights than not, he’d allowed them to fall asleep together, naked and intertwined, content with each other. She’d thought she’d finally been good enough to not only keep around, but to give so much pleasure and happiness. But he hated her for this too, somehow. Peko couldn’t understand what had changed because of what she’d said. 

Peko knew she would not be allowed to share her young master’s bed tonight and resolved to train until she was exhausted. Another failure she had as a tool was that she needed his touch to sleep easily. Perhaps it could also help make up for her failure in every other way if she could increase her sword skills even further. It was a pitiful plan, but Peko tried her best to believe that there was a reason to carry on. This had happened before and she’d always been forgiven, after all. But it felt so different this time. The way he’d screamed at her was new, the way he’d refused to be touched. There was no way he could want her again. 

Her body carried her through her training, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe that there was any hope for her. This was true misery, the worst possible guilt, complete self-loathing contempt. Her young master didn’t want her anymore. He couldn’t stand to even touch her again. And not only was she stuck here now, she had no comfort to look forward to. She could never so much as speak with her young master again. Peko had no hope left. Tears silently streaming down her face, sweat dripping from her body, sword still swinging with a mindless automation for her young master, Peko felt nothing but despair.

Fuyuhiko cried hysterically for far longer than Peko had. He threw himself face-down in his bathroom floor. He screamed, he sobbed, he pathetically wallowed in his guilt. He always knew he was Peko’s master. He’d always known that the only way to be good would be to send her away. If he really, really loved her, the only thing he could do was refuse to use her, to refuse to be with her so that she could be allowed to be a real person. He’d known that. And he’d tried before to leave her be. But the temptation had always been too great. He’d always run back to her crying that he needed her, conscience be damned.

Fuyuhiko was ashamed of himself. He couldn’t believe he’d thought this was different. Why was he such a stupid fucking child about it? He’d always known that his family would sell people, real human beings into sex slavery. He’d known the mechanics. He’d understood. Hell, he’d even threatened people with selling them when he was particularly pissed off. And he’d always known that Peko was meant to be his tool, his all purpose bodyguard… His slave. But he had absolutely never considered that she was his for that too. How could he not have realized?

The first time he’d asked was not more than a year ago, and every time, he didn’t realize what it was. When he said “can we?”, a blush on his cheeks, and she’d gathered from context what he wanted, he didn’t realize what it was. When she said “of course” instead of “yes”, he didn’t realize what it was. When she said “anything you want” with a smile, he didn’t realize what it was. When she started changing what she wore under her clothes to things that he liked more, he didn’t realize what it was. When she’d gasped and writhed under him, he hadn’t realized what it was. When she called out “Young Master” in place of his name while she was cumming, he hadn’t realized what it was. When he’d fallen asleep in her arms every time afterward, he hadn’t realized what it was. He hadn’t ever realized what it was. He’d never realized and now that he did, he felt sick. Rape. 

When the word came to Fuyuhiko’s mind, he gagged himself with his own crying gasps. He quickly scrambled his way up from the floor before emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet. This was true misery, the worst possible guilt, complete self-loathing contempt. His racing heart, inability to breathe, and his violently contracting stomach compounded his misery. And not only was he stuck here now, he had no comfort to look forward to. He could never so much as speak with Peko again. Fuyuhiko had no hope left. Naked, crying hysterically, vomiting until there was nothing left and he was just heaving, Fuyuhiko felt nothing but despair. 


	2. Bloodstained Memories

It had been a week, and Fuyuhiko was going to crack. He needed Peko more badly than he ever had before. He knew he couldn’t go back to her. But even trying to stay away made him a mess. He had been acting angrier than usual. Erratic, unhinged even. His thoughts were filled with her; at every moment, he was only able to think of the ways he’d hurt her. Since they were babies, since before he could remember, since before he was even born he already owned her, was already hurting her. The right thing to do would be to let her go. This time, he was determined to do it. This time, it had to be different. This time, he had to be strong. This time, he couldn’t, he shouldn’t just come running back to her. He knew, though, that he was going to. He just wasn’t strong enough to resist that temptation.

Drastic measures were called for. To protect Peko. And perhaps, he thought, also to atone for what he’d done. Fuyuhiko had a plan. He made his way to the kitchen. Any knife should do, he figured. As long as he did it right, would it really matter what he killed himself with? Fuyuhiko fidgeted with the knife, turning the blade over in his hands while he contemplated what he was about to do. He knew he deserved it, he knew Peko deserved to be able to be happy without him. And he knew that he would never ever be able to truly leave her alone if he was alive. There just wasn’t any other way. It didn’t matter where he did it. Right here in the kitchen floor was as good a place as any. It only mattered that he took care of the situation so that he could really never hurt her again. Fuyuhiko felt dizzy, kneeling low to the ground where he stood before he enacted his plan.

“I’m sorry, Peko. I should’ve done it sooner,” He muttered to himself before plunging the blade into the left side his abdomen and pulling it all the way across to the right. The numbness in his heart had spread enough that he was disoriented, a bit disconnected, but he still felt the ripping sensation. He gasped, tears coming to his eyes. The pain was overwhelming, but strangely, that did little to prevent him from steadily slicing himself open. Before he had a chance to do anything further, Peko was standing in the doorway. 

Peko felt her scream in her throat before she heard the sound, and she heard the sound before she realized it was coming from her own mouth. Peko’s legs carried her across the room to Fuyuhiko without her participation. Her young master’s blood was running over his legs, pooling in a large irregular circle around him. He was still clutching the knife he’d used tightly in his wavering hand. He’d removed it from his stomach and was holding it out in front of him, staring intensely at it through his tears.

“Young master!” Peko managed, unable to articulate anything more. Why had he done this? Did he really hate her so much he had to die to leave her? How could she have done something so horrible to him? And even if she was that much of a failure he still should at least know he could have asked her to die instead. Why would he do something so terrible? With shaking hands, she grabbed for the knife, but she couldn’t get ahold of it before he was screaming, yanking it out of her reach.

“Please just let me apologize to you, Peko!” The plea was desperate, strangled. Fuyuhiko couldn’t hear her answer, if she had even given him one. His ears were filled with the pounding sound of the blood rushing through them. The answer to the question he’d been contemplating was clear. Fuyuhiko needed to hurt himself as much as possible, and in as many ways as possible. It was the only way to atone for everything he’d done, for his entire life, and for everything he wouldn’t be able to help but do in the future if he didn’t kill himself now. He plunged the knife into his own eye and pulled it out before Peko was able to grab his wrist and utilize the distraction of the pain to pull the knife away and throw it across the room. He lost consciousness immediately afterwards.

Peko couldn’t believe she’d failed her young master even further. She should have been decisive enough to take away the knife immediately upon finding him. But hadn’t he already made a suicidal wound? Why did he want to suffer so badly that he would keep hurting himself even after that? She just hadn’t expected him to do anything more after already slicing open his stomach. And what had he said about an apology? Was that delusional? She wasn't sure. She wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

After that point, Peko could only remember blood. She had taken care of Fuyuhiko, she’d called for an ambulance, she had expertly added pressure to the wounds with alarmingly steady hands and kept him alive until he could be rushed to the hospital. Tears had flowed down her cheeks and she had screamed at him, begging him to live for her. But she couldn’t remember any of that. All she could remember was Fuyuhiko’s face, mutilated and barely recognizable under the blood pouring from the wound, his body seeming to swim in a sea of his own blood. The blood stained everything. Her clothes, her hands, her face, the floor underneath her. It stained everything until all she was left with were bloodstained memories.


	3. Equals

Fuyuhiko took quite a while to fully wake up the next time he did, coming to a groggy sort of awareness of the world before slowly piecing together what had happened. The pain seemed to fade in to both his eye and his stomach. He opened his now only functioning eye and groaned. He was in the hospital, of course he was. He was alone in the room except for Peko. She was sitting by his bedside, leaning forward in her chair, staring at the floor. How long had she been there? How long had he? He opened his mouth to ask something, but he couldn’t work up the power of speech. What would he say anyway?

Peko noticed immediately, even before the his groaning, that her young master was awake. She was too attuned to him not to, but what could she say to him? How could she apologize for this failure to keep him safe? The complete failure not only to protect him physically, but mentally as well? What could she say that would ever suffice? What could she do? Peko was paralyzed. With fear? Guilt? Anxiety? Something more? She couldn’t tell, but she didn’t move, keeping her eyes trained on the floor.

Eventually, Fuyuhiko managed to turn his head to look at Peko. He wanted to speak, but what could he say to her? How could he apologize for everything he’d done? How could he even explain his suicide attempt and subsequent self-mutilation? And how could he ever apologize for everything that had lead to it? What could he say that would ever suffice? What could he do? Fuyuhiko was paralyzed. With fear? Guilt? Anxiety? Something more? He couldn’t tell, but he didn’t move, keeping his one uncovered eye on her.

The room was filled with silence. Oppressive, suffocating silence. Seconds ticked by, minutes, then an hour, all spent entirely in silence. Time seemed to drag on forever as it passed. Neither child moved significantly, Fuyuhiko only shifting to lay his head back against the pillow and close his eye. What could they say to each other? How could they do it? It seemed to be that they couldn't. So they simply didn't say anything at all. They sat in absolute silence, as time dragged lethargically by. Perhaps, they thought, they were simply destined to sit in silence for the rest of time.

Then, suddenly, the hospital room door opened. Peko and Fuyuhiko only had time to catch a brief glimpse of the nurse’s worried face before her foot caught on what seemed to be nothing and she somersaulted into the room, letting out a long, wavering, high-pitched yell as she fell to the floor. She hit the ground, legs spread apart, somehow each caught in a separate loop of the cord to the TV. Her skirt was flipped up, revealing a pair of white panties with a pink ribbon on the front The nurse wailed at the top of her lungs.

“I-I-I’m sorry!!” She scrambled, frantically attempting to untangle herself and cover herself with her skirt at the same time. Peko stared at the nurse. At any other time, she wouldn't react, except perhaps to help her get up. She would help quietly, without commenting. But right now? At this moment, this was all just too absurd for Peko. She’d been re-contemplating her entire life, unsure of her future, unable to even speak to her young master, unsure how to even begin to help. She’d been feeling complete and utter despair, total paralysis at the thought of how to move on to the future, but then, all of the sudden... the nurse’s panties, just on display in front of her. An erratic, high-pitched, uncontrollable peal of laughter poured from her mouth. Peko laughed hysterically, gasping for breath, wrapping her arms around her stomach and grabbing at her aching sides. She couldn’t stop, continuing to laugh until the tears poured down her cheeks.

Fuyuhiko’s confusion pushed him to sit up in bed and shift his body to face Peko. Peko was laughing like he had never heard her laugh before in her life. Sure, the nurse tripping had been sort of funny. And how did she even manage to fall that way? But this was a reaction that would be over the top for anyone at all. For someone as quiet and reserved as Peko, it was unthinkable.

The nurse managed to untangle herself, standing up and apologizing profusely to both Peko and Fuyuhiko. Peko waved her hand dismissively, still unable to stop laughing. Fuyuhiko managed to tell the nurse that he didn’t need anything, and after checking some things on the monitor by his bedside, with a concerned glance at Peko, she scurried back out of the room. As she left, Peko’s giggles became more subdued, but they didn’t stop. Peko covered her mouth to try to suppress them.

“Peko?” Fuyuhiko managed to produce her name, but nothing more. He wondered if this was the wrong response; as soon as she heard her name, her giggles morphed seamlessly into sobs.

“Young master,” She finally choked out between gasps for breath “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Peko tried to wipe the tears from her face, but they were flowing far too fast for it to make any difference. Why was she suddenly so completely out of control? She was always in control. She’d been in control of herself her entire life, even since this had all happened. She was in control of herself right up until the nurse tripped her way into the room and somehow set her off. What kind of magic was this? Resigning herself to giving up control over herself, she stood up, crossing the room to Fuyuhiko’s bed in a few steps and crawling in beside him. Still bawling, she buried her face in the side of his shoulder. Even moving automatically, she carefully avoided his wounds with the arm she wound around him.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry to say this. I know it’s not right. I know I failed you and I know this is all my fault. I know you don’t want me. I know you don’t want to be with me. I know it all, but please, please, young master, please don’t leave me. I need you. I need you to stay with me. Please,” The words tumbled out of her mouth between her desperate sobs.

Fuyuhiko started to cry. What in the world was she talking about? Her failing him? It’d been him all along, failing her, just by being alive. How could she think this was her fault? Peko continued pouring her heart out.

“I’m sorry, young master. I know you never wanted me. I don’t know why I was always substandard. I don’t know what I did that you always needed to send me away. And I really, really don’t know how I made you want to leave me so badly that you would rather die than even send me away for good. And I know it’s being even worse to you than I already have been to ask anything more of you, but please permit me to be selfish, Young master. Please don’t leave me.”

“Peko, what the fuck? I don’t fucking get it. This was for you. It was always for you.” It made sense to him. It all finally made sense. What he’d said wrong, what he’d always meant to say instead. He began to cry out the words himself, wrapping his arms around Peko and pulling her closer to him. “Peko, it was absolutely fucking always for you. Since we were fucking babies, since literally before I was even born, I owned you. Do you know how goddamn fucked up that shit is?! You’re not a fucking tool. You’re supposed to be a person. But you can’t be a person with me. I thought if I told you to leave, maybe you could be happy. But I was always too fucking selfish to let you really go.”

“Young master?” Was that really it? Why he was sending her away all the time? Could it really be that good? But how could Fuyuhiko have misunderstood so severely? “I don’t think you understand. I want nothing more than to be with you. I always have. I was so miserable when I was without you. I just thought you didn’t want me.”

“Peko…” Fuyuhiko squeezed Peko tightly against his chest, crushing her in a hug. He stroked her hair, pressing his face into the top of her head. “Peko, I want you. I always wanted to be with you. But Peko, I don’t want you to be my tool. I don’t want to own you. I don’t want to use you. I just want to love you. As equals.”

“Equals?” Peko seemed to turn the word over in her mouth. Was that really what he’d wanted all along? Every time? Every time he sent her away, was it really not for a failure of her own, but because he wanted her to be… equal?

“I didn’t know how to say it.” Fuyuhiko spoke quietly into the top of her head. “And I couldn’t stand to know that something I thought was being good to you was just more of that shit, more using you. I didn’t want to be using you for sex. I always thought it was like, we had to be equal for that, but then all of the sudden it was like everything we ever did turned into me just… just using you. That's why I did it. Tried to die, I mean. Like, I just thought that I could never just fucking stop using you. I didn’t think I could be with you without owning you, and I knew that I’d never been able to leave you alone. My choices were just own you or to leave you. I didn’t want to own you.”

“You didn’t want to own me....” Peko paused, thinking the statement over for a moment. Everything seemed too good to be true. He just wanted her to be treated better? “But you wanted me to be with you?”

“Yeah. I just didn’t think I could have both. I didn’t think I could have you and have you be, like, a person. I still don’t know if I can have both. But after I went and made this fucking mess, maybe I need to just try. I love you. I want to be with you. I just don’t want you to be mine. And if we’re trying a relationship like that, there’s a lot of shit that’s gonna get in our way. It won't be fucking easy. Like, my parents are gonna be really fucking pissed at us. I’ll have to explain it to the rest of the fucking clan and the world that my parents bought me a fucking slave and now all I’m gonna do is free her and love her, and date her and maybe if I’m lucky, marry her.” Peko blushed deeply, snapping her head up to look at his face. Marry? Lucky? Dating, even, had seemed a pipe dream to her, a fantasy that she’d barely considered appropriate to have in her head. And here he was talking about being lucky if he could marry her?

“We have to explain it to our fucking class” Fuyuhiko continued to explain “and Ibuki’s gonna absolutely lose her shit and probably write 50 fucking songs about us. And they’ll all have dumbass titles and we’ll have to hear her play that shit in class. And then Teruteru’s gonna ask us all about the shit do in bed and he won’t shut up about how much the whole damn thing turns him on. And Mahiru is gonna wanna take a million fucking pictures of us together. And fucking Chisa’s gonna pinch my cheeks and tell us how we still have to build hope with the whole class but she’s sooo happy for her ‘precious students’. And then Nagito’s gonna talk even more about hope than she did. And he’s never gonna shut his fucking mouth about it. They’re all gonna be such a fucking headache. And they’re all gonna love us and support us and that’ll be stupid and piss me off.” Fuyuhiko laughed fondly before turning his tone more serious.

“And who knows what shit’s gonna be going on inside our heads that we have to get rid of? You’re gonna think all kinds of shit you’ve been taught about who you’re supposed to be. And I probably have all kinds of fucking habits. Bossing you around and that shit. I mean, I tried to avoid it even before, but still. I was raised that way. There’s so much there.” Fuyuhiko didn’t feel like he’d ever talked this much in his life. Was it the pain medicine dripping from his IV? He briefly wondered if he was even making sense, but somehow he felt more lucid than he had in weeks. Peko was smiling more than he’d ever seen her smile, maybe ever. So whatever he was doing, it must be good.

“We might have impossible shit to do and we might be chasing a fucking miracle and there may be so fucking much for us to make it through to make this work. But, Peko, please, let’s just… start. I wanna be with you. But I wanna be equals.”

Peko didn’t feel like her heart could handle this much happiness. She was suddenly in tears again, pulling Fuyuhiko in closer and crying desperately into his chest. How had life awarded her someone so kind? He was so kind as to have been this torn up over feeling he’d been wronging her. And he wanted her. Fuyuhiko didn’t want a tool, but he did want her. She was so lucky that he not only wanted her, but wanted to treat her better than she’d ever thought she should be. Peko nodded her agreement. For now the word was still unfamiliar in her mouth, but soon it would become second nature for each of them to repeat to each other. She tried it out again.

“Equals.”


End file.
